A Haunting Error
by KLMeri
Summary: Kirk and Spock are receiving visitations… from McCoy? A story in which the universe must correct itself if the trio isn't together. Lovely insane plot. - COMPLETE
1. Part One

**Title**: A Haunting Error

**Author**: klmeri

**Characters: **Kirk, Spock, McCoy

**Disclaimer**: My mind is weird—sort of like ST. But I didn't come up with it.

**Summary**: Jim and Spock are receiving visitations... by McCoy?

**Note**: Inspired by **lilbatfacedgirl**'s comment that the trio must be together. What happens if they aren't? How can this grievous error be corrected? Unfortunately, this plot is not sane; it's crack-tastic.

* * *

**Part One**

Spock is haunted by McCoy's ghost. He cannot concentrate on his meditation because someone—_something_—starts trailing cold fingertips down the length of his spine, which he feels quite keenly despite the heavy robes. Being a touch telepath, one would assume that he could not be contacted so easily by a spirit; they'd be wrong. He feels the wind (there should _not _be wind on a starship—it isn't a cooling unit draft) tingling his senses and an almost-pressure against his palms, like skin touching skin.

Then the whispering begins.

It says things like _Vulcan-robot_ and _pointy-eared menace_ that he has (not quite) heard from a certain Doctor in the past. Only the words won't fit into the pattern snugly; they bend at the edges. It unnerves him, as much as Vulcan austerity can be breached.

In practice, Spock sleeps lightly and for short periods of time. During those hours when he is off-duty but not in need of rest, he utilizes his time either in research or meditation. Since his meditation cannot continue on in the face of such an illogical disturbance, he skims the computer data banks for a new occupation. The console beeps consistently and softly, which almost relaxes his mind (he is grateful). It mimics a steady drip of sound, like a voice.

Like a voice repeating harmlessly _spock-spock-spock_ every four heartbeats.

_Spock-spock-spock._

_Spock-spock-spockspock._

_Spockspockspockspockspock—_

The Vulcan snaps from his concentration to find his computer going wild. It scrolls through data at too fast a speed for reading, blinks harshly in the dim lighting of his quarters.

Spock attempts to recall the screen into an orderly fashion. It does not respond so he manually disconnects the wires in the back.

It's still running.

Now, no sane person needs Vulcan logic to explain this situation. No power supply equates non-functional machinery. (Unless it's a piece of possessed machinery that wants Spock's attention.)

He puzzles over the matter for some minutes until he can take the crazy beeping no more. "Please desist," he says.

It stops.

"Fascinating."

The fingers are back, touching around his shoulders and side of his neck. Spock goes rigid with indignation because no person, especially a _non-entity_, has the right to invade his personal space in such an indecent manner.

He orders, "You will stop at once."

It does.

Spock calmly rises from his desk chair and exits the room. When he reaches the Captain's quarters, he buzzes for entrance.

Kirk is at the door with a towel wrapped his shoulders. He motions for Spock to enter. "Ship business or personal business, Mr. Spock?"

Spock answers, "I am uncertain."

This gets Kirk's attention because Spock rarely admits hesitation over any subject (except Human rituals). "Explain."

"I believe that Doctor McCoy's spirit resides in my quarters."

There is a brief ensuing silence while these words ripen in Jim's brain. He drops his arms to his sides and stares at his First Officer. "Spock, that's insane."

"Improbable, Captain, but given the Enterprise's encounters of a spectral nature, still possible."

"Doctor McCoy—you _are_ referring to the CMO that lasted… what, eight weeks?"

"Correct, Captain."

"And how can you be certain that the man is even dead?"

"I do not know this fact. I am merely stating an obvious connection. The… entity's and the Doctor's behavior—while aboard this ship—are significantly similar."

"Spock! Are you telling me that you have a ghost that swears and name-calls _living in your room?_"

"Indeed. It is highly illogical." He means _I can barely believe it myself._

Kirk mutters something that Spock pretends he does not hear. By now, the Captain is pulling on a uniform shirt and his boots with sharp, quick movements. Then he says, "Let's go."

They are off to investigate.

* * *

Spock's quarters are in proper order when they arrive. Jim prowls around the room, randomly tapping on consoles and panels—as if he knows how ghost-hunting is done. Spock merely watches this display with a raised eyebrow. After five minutes of unsuccessful communication with the spirit, they decide it must be an unusual sensory reception on Spock's part. (The Vulcan does not necessarily agree with this assessment but is desirous of routing the Captain from his quarters—and his inquisitive questioning.)

Luckily, there is no return of the ghost for one week—in which time the crew learns of the eerie visit and become jittery when alone, always checking over their shoulders but never admitting to uneasiness.

Spock's second unlucky encounter is in the sonic shower. This time the fingers are much too probing for his liking and he accidentally dents a wall from his (barely restrained) reaction. Spock is once again seeking out the Captain but refuses to give him details of the incident—only says that he is quite sure it is the unknown presence and would the Captain give him permission for a detailed electro-magnetic scan of his living area.

"Sure, Spock. You have the proper equipment in one of the science labs, don't you?"

"The Enterprise does maintain the standard devices for detecting—"

"Yes, alright. By all means, get rid of that ghost!"

"Captain." Spock turns on his heel and makes a beeline for the Science Department. He tells no one why he picks up the tools that he does—and they do not have the gall to ask—only gathers them and retreats to his quarters again.

He attaches several devices to his PADD for instant readings and turns on a voice recorder.

"This is Commander Spock, First Officer and science officer of the Enterprise—" He goes into some detail of his rank, the hauntings, and his scientific hypotheses.

"—if the entity is indeed who I presume it to be, I must determine a method of direct communication between us."

Suddenly the instrument in his hands goes wild. He does not start—as any untrained being would—but simply adjusts the frequency of the tuner.

A garbled, computerized voice comes out. "Ssspppock."

If his eyebrow could climb any higher, it would vacate his face altogether. "Fascinating."

"Ssspppock."

He depresses a button on the side. "Spock here."

"Greeeen-blooooded—" The sound is filled with too much static to be understandable, but Spock would not estimate that "hobgoblin" is at the end. He makes notes.

_Entity imitates expressions of former CMO of Enterprise but is not consistent with phrasing. Must clarify._

"Is this Doctor McCoy?" he questions.

The PADD burst into flames. He drops it unceremoniously and puts out the fire by slamming his boot down, successfully cracking it into pieces.

Spock's human-half might curse. Instead, he draws on his reserve of Vulcan calm.

There is little more insight to be gained throughout the remainder of the shift. He returns to the Bridge, with a quick "Negative" when the Captain inquiries after his success.

* * *

Two days later, Kirk comes to Spock, wide-eyed. "It's haunting me!"

"Pardon, Captain?"

"Your McCoy ghost! It's haunting me in the bathroom, Spock!"

Kirk looks a bit jumpy—it's obvious he's had phantom hands on places no other should touch uninvited. Spock refrains from expressing his deepest sympathies.

"We've got to do something about this—this thing. I won't have haunts on my ship, Spock!" Kirk paces around in a circle, shoulders tight. "And damn, we can't alert Security either…"

"Might I make a suggestion, Captain?"

"I order you to, Mr. Spock."

"Unnecessary, though I will comply. We should inform Lieutenant Uhura of the situation."

"I thought I just said we can't tell anybody!"

"You said Security. Uhura is Communications."

"I doubt she speaks Ghost."

"If you are attempting humor, Captain, I do not understand the necessity. We must establish Doctor McCoy's whereabouts."

"You mean, if he's actually alive, and not wandering the halls of the Enterprise at night."

Spock does not address this ridiculous Human turn of phrase. He only says, "Indeed."

That's exactly what they do.

* * *

Uhura is nonplussed about tracking down a wayward grumpy doctor because she distinctly remembers the man's attitude. (Who could forget, when so many female friends cried on her shoulder over his sharp, ungentlemanly words?) But it's her job to do as the Captain commands, and frankly, the Captain looks a little agitated (and frightened?) so she does as she's told.

It takes three days to find the Southern (backwoods-bred) doctor. He is serving on a distant outpost that starships only visit if in dire need; it's almost vacated of Humans and attracts the more gruesome Federation members. After multiple comm-jostling, Uhura patches through to the medical sector. A hurried, _smoking _nurse takes her comm. (Uhura tries not to stare at the smoke curling in the background.) "Whadd'ya want, sugar?"

"I am Head of Communications on the Enterprise. I need to speak with Doctor McCoy."

"That old grumpy bastard? You ain't his type."

Uhura narrows her eyes. "Put me through to Doctor McCoy _now_… please." She tries for a sweet smile (it falls halfway up).

"Fine. LEONARD!" The woman turns around and bellows the name down the hall. "He'll get here. Don't get your panties in a twist." She disappears off screen.

As soon as a man in a dirty white labcoat comes into view, Uhura says "Of all the NERVE! Doctor McCoy, you ought—"

There is a sharp laugh, and the man with bright blue (dancing) eyes drawls, "Helen's as bitchy as they come, darlin'—just like every other soul on this hunk of metal." He grins at her, narrowing his eyes. "Do I know you?"

"We met briefly during my physical. I'm with communications on the Enterprise."

At the mention of the Starfleet flagship, the smile drops from his face. "Forgive me for forgetting your pretty face then, ma'am. I wasn't on her long enough to take lasting impressions."

She ignores that, and proceeds with her script. "Doctor McCoy, I am not contacting you to discuss the past. Captain Kirk—you do remember him, don't you?"

There's some dark cloud coming over McCoy's face. "Hell, I do! Man couldn't go a day without damaging something or other! Always fixing him up—"

"Doctor," she warns. "Captain Kirk asked me to obtain your location. I am sending you our current coordinates and a transmission frequency to tap into. Please contact the Captain immediately. He wishes to speak with you."

"What the Hell am I supposed to do from here? Diagnose a mole? _Jesus!_ Can't he get that—_Vulcan_—"

"Mr. Spock."

"Mr. _Spock_. Right, well… Spock to do whatever it is? If I recall, _Spock _was always harping on about his superiority to us mere Humans—"

"He'll be awaiting your comm, Doctor. Good day." She cuts the line and leans back in her chair with a deep sigh. Sometimes being the intermediary is quite the job. Uhura wants a pay raise or a commendation or both.

* * *

When McCoy finally gets around to contacting the Captain of the Enterprise, it's much too late for Kirk. He can tell by Kirk's thunderous expression that he did not appreciate the wait.

_Well, too damn bad._ He wants to talk to McCoy, so he can damn well wait until Leonard has a minute. There so many unnecessary brawls on this God-forsaken outpost, he spends most of his days shoving innards back into place. _Kirk would never survive my job, _he thinks. That satisfies him enough to be slightly cordial to the man.

"What's so God-damned important that you had to look me up, Kirk?"

If anything, Kirk is all the more thunderous. "Doctor McCoy, I suggest you remember your position."

"Now, don't pull that card with me, Jimmy." Kirk looks surprised that McCoy remembers his name—then realizes that _Jimmy_ is not something he wants to be called, especially by a doctor with a down-hill Starfleet career.

"Call me Jim." He says it in such a short (hard) tone that McCoy snorts.

"Right, like you called me Bones?"

_Oh shit. Shouldn't have brought that up._ Kirk's eyes are lit now, but not in anger, in amusement. "_Bones._" He says the name like he's testing it for just the right amount of annoyance.

_Damn it! _"What do you want, Jim?"

"Well, one of my big questions is answered. You aren't dead."

"And I don't feel dead, either. Does that help?"

Kirk laughs. "Oh, Bones. You wouldn't believe the kind of nights I've been having."

_Oh Lord_, he mutters. Exactly how insane is this Captain? He doesn't remember Kirk being a lunatic. In fact, if he really thinks about it, he might admit that he had the impression Kirk was good at his job. A shame he didn't get to stay long enough to really organize his thoughts on the subject.

"If this is a social call, you won't mind if I have a drink." Leonard pulls out a bottle of bourbon from his desk, forgoes the glass, and takes a swig right from the bottle.

Kirk looks impressed. "That outpost must be awful."

"You don't know the half of it." Now that Leonard has an audience to whom he can vent his frustrations, he isn't about to shut his mouth. (Damned Starfleet brass—can't take him any lower, can they, for his opinions? Kirk doesn't look like a tattle-tell.) "Not only are we stuck out on the damned edge of the galaxy, but I have to put up with every miscreant, diseased rogue, and backward ass that passes through the joint. Oughta let 'em patch their own damn wounds as they please." He's slouched in the chair now, grumbling.

"Now I remember you, Bones! Your bed-side manner is lacking."

McCoy snaps, "Then I suppose I'm in the right place, Jim. We're _all_ lacking in manners 'round here!"

Kirk holds up his hands as if to say _sorry, calm down, buddy_. There is a moment of awkward silence between them. Finally, Kirk speaks.

"Have you had any strange… encounters in the last few weeks, Bones?"

McCoy's eyebrow shoots up. "Define strange."

Kirk looks almost pained. What he says is so low that McCoy has to cock his ear to the speaker to make it out. When he does understand the words, his brain fizzles. Leonard cannot help himself; he bursts into laughter. "G-ghosts-ss! Oh my good Lord!" Kirk waits impatiently for McCoy to finish. When McCoy doesn't stop…

"BONES!"

"Alright, alright! I'm s-sorry— You just don't know how much I needed that laugh, Jim." McCoy takes in his expression, and immediately sobers. "You're serious."

"Very."

"C'mon, you can't really believe that there's a boogey-man haunting your quarters impersonating me!" He is honestly astonished. It makes no sense.

"I know how crazy it sounds, but I'm not the only one. Spock—"

"That green-blooded computer! You can't mean he's getting 'em too!"

"Spock was first, actually. He came to me, I really ignored it when I shouldn't have—"

McCoy waves his hand to stop Kirk mid-self-recrimination. "Enough of that, Jim-boy. If Spock's been visited—then there has to be something going on. He's too damned logical—" _emotionless_ he doesn't add, "—to be making up stories like that." _Hell, I don't think he has an imagination!_

Kirk agrees. They settle in to discuss the weird possibilities. The easy conversation is almost familiar and right. Leonard's mind doesn't want to go there, so he focuses on listening to Jim (damn, now he's calling Kirk by his first name in his thoughts) explain some of the Enterprise's more creepy experiences with specters.

An hour passes by so quickly and smoothly that both men are surprised at the interruption of Kirk's desk comm (linked into the ship). It's Uhura, calling him to the Bridge. Jim's promise to comm Len again is swift and sure; Leonard almost reluctantly says goodbye.

When he is alone—in this terribly shabby office for the Senior Medical Officer—he caps his bourbon (it's half-forgotten on the edge of his desk) and stretches out on the couch for a short rest. If there is a smile on his face as he drifts off, he won't remember it on the next round of dreary medical cases.

* * *

During Alpha shift on the Enterprise, Spock wakes up to warm breath on the point of his ear. His senses are alert enough to recognize this familiar presence, so he calms down the rapid beating of his heart and relaxes his breathing. He thinks at it, _What are you?_

The weight of an intangible hand presses on the center of Spock's chest. The spot cools enough to border on uncomfortable for a Vulcan. When Spock touches the place, his fingertips meet nothing but his own skin.

_What—are—you?_

And just like that, there is an image in his head as the spirit makes contact. It shows him a Human with blue eyes and a bright grin; a face he's seen before—one that mostly scowled but could (possibly) look so pleased. The response is the same.

_Spock._

His name.

* * *

Jim has a different experience. He's on the Bridge, half-asleep in his chair because of his inability to rest in his own quarters. His eyes shoot open as something heavy drops into his lap.

Only, his lap is empty.

Jim gets up from the Captain's seat (quelling his alarm—not that well) and nonchalantly (he hopes) strolls around the Bridge with one eye on the center. As he comes abreast, the chair looks inconspicuous enough, so he sits down.

Whoever—_whatever_—it is sits in his lap again.

If the Captain looks somewhat wild-eyed during the rest of his shift, none of the crew will mention it—to the Captain. Amongst themselves, the gossip flies. _What's the matter with Captain Kirk?_

Kirk himself wonders something similar. He wants to know: _Why him and why Spock?_


	2. Part Two

**Part Two**

The third time that Kirk comms McCoy, Jim looks bad and there is the Vulcan is standing in the background. Leonard barely bothers to greet Spock before he gives Jim the once-over.

"You look like you've been chewed up and spit out by a Gorn."

"Thank you," Kirk says somewhat drily and with a lot of tiredness coating his voice. "I don't feel much better."

"Well Goddammit, Jim! If you can't sleep, why won't your blasted _CMO_—" he bites back bitterness at this word, "give you a sedative. For Christ's sake, what kind of monkeys are running Medical?"

Jim doesn't quite fidget in his seat. "We aren't exactly announcing our little problem, Bones."

"What's that got to do with getting proper care, you fool? It's HIS job to keep an eye on the Captain; he ought to notice if you're having a rough time, Jim-boy."

"_Her_," Jim corrects absently. McCoy thinks, _Well damn… a female CMO_. _Who can't even wrangle one Captain into shape?_ As Len eyes Kirk, he reluctantly remembers the man's fondness for flirting. Maybe the CMO isn't daft after all; maybe she's just got a fine sense of self-preservation.

_If he were on that ship—_

Leonard drops that thought. "Well, what's the spook done now?"

"What hasn't it done?" Jim mutters. The Captain runs a hand roughly over his face, and McCoy feels a keen sympathy for this golden boy. He too knows the isolation of rank (or he did) and having a scarce number of people to turn to for comfort or care.

It's in this moment that McCoy turns his attention to the Vulcan. Is Spock one of those people for Kirk? Or are they only brought together by circumstance—and a crazy, touchy-feely ghost? "C'mon then. If you've got any bright ideas, you pointy-eared hobgoblin, speak up!"

Spock slowly approaches the screen, never once breaking contact with McCoy's sharp gaze. "Doctor McCoy," he says—and surprisingly falls silent.

Leonard lowers his eyebrows to match his scowl. "Lost your touch, Spock? Well, I'll be damned!"

"Doctor McCoy, rude commentary is unnecessary for this conversation. Might I suggest that you review your Regulation handbook, in particular those regulations that clearly state an excess of expletives—"

"_Mary, Jesus, and Joseph! _Forget it! Forget I said _anything_, okay?"

"I do not understand your request. Why would I disregard our discussion?"

Leonard looks over at Jim for help. He'd forgotten how naïve this Vulcan can be about Human expressions. At one time, he had taken much joy in confusing the bastard; now, perhaps not. When Jim does not open his mouth, Leonard addresses Spock almost calmly, like a teacher to a student.

"The phrase means that I would rather we discontinued the current subject of conversation."

"Ah. Would it not be more appropriate to simply inform the other of this wish directly?"

"Spock, it's considered rude to do that! Besides, the way I said it should have alerted you to my exasperation with our conversation."

The Vulcan says nothing else, merely looks thoughtful (if a Vulcan can). McCoy breathes deeply and moves on.

"If the hauntings are getting worse, then you aren't understanding what the thing is trying to tell you."

"The entity says little, Doctor. It is more… physical… in its desire for attention."

Leonard raises an eyebrow at this. Spock raises his in response. (They are _so_ not having an eyebrow contest.) Jim interrupts the fun.

"It doesn't communicate with me at all, only—" He shudders. Perhaps both McCoy and Spock are thinking _poor Jim_. Neither voice it.

McCoy sits back in his chair, pensive and rubbing a forefinger over his bottom lip. "We've already decided that your routine wasn't any different right before it started showing up."

"Affirmative."

"You haven't been through any strange electro-magnetic particle clouds in the past year."

"Small favors, Bones."

"And it doesn't seem to be a deceased red-shirt lost in oblivion."

Spock does not roll his eyes but Jim does. "We're stumped, honestly. Nothing makes sense."

"There are no contributing factors to indicate a need for its presence, Doctor. It is… random."

"Except that it's imitatin' _me_, Spock," McCoy drawls. "I seem to be the only obvious connection."

"Indeed."

Jim sighs. "Then, I guess that we don't have much choice. You'll have to come to the ship, Bones."

"Now wait just a damned minute, Jim! I'm a doctor, not a call-girl. I've got _responsibilities_ here!"

Jim slams his fist down on the desk. "And we have a responsibility to this crew, McCoy! Spock and I both need to be able to focus on our duties too!" Jim springs out of his seat and paces. "We've been lucky so far—this quadrant of space is quiet. But what if that changes? I can't focus!"

"Jim, calm down, alright? You're gonna make yourself worse if you keep stressing out like this." Kirk stares at McCoy for a minute, before yanking out his chair and falling back into it.

"Right. Sorry, Bones. I can't take this kind of crazy anymore. Imagine what it's like having something you can't see, hear, or feel _touch you_. All the time, _everywhere, _even on the Bridge!"

Leonard gives in, then. "You win, Jim. I'll be ready when you get here."

The three men set to work on planning the details of long space detour to McCoy's outpost. As far as Jim is concerned, the Enterprise can't get there fast enough.

* * *

As it turns out, Leonard is most certainly needed aboard the Enterprise. As soon as his atoms reorganize into some semblance of order, Chapel is dragging McCoy by the arm to Sickbay.

_Dear God, Chapel!_ How he's missed having competent nurses like Christine Chapel. Not that Helen isn't competent, she's just mean. Once he had to demand "What in God's name do you think you're doing!" because she was painting her nails while a patient writhed on a biobed in agony. Helen looked at him and replied, "He'll quit in a minute." When McCoy dared to grab hold of her arm (to stop this ridiculous slacking), she tossed him away like a rag doll (surprising strength, that woman) and threw a PADD at his head—which would have made contact had he not ducked. Helen was right, though; the patient did stop seizing. (He died.)

"Doctor McCoy, there's a patient for you!"

Already on call and he's supposed to be on leave. Why isn't McCoy surprised? "Fine. Want to give me the particulars?"

Chapel just looks at him before shoving him through the Sickbay entrance. "You'll have to see this one for yourself."

He stops, stares. Medical personnel (all of 'em) are crowding the isolation side of Sickbay. When McCoy clears his throat, the loud arguing stops, and they make room for him. In the middle, the source of the disturbance, stands a middle-aged woman with a blank stare.

Len says, "Ma'am?" The woman just stares straight ahead. M'Benga informs McCoy that Doctor Farrow—that's right this is none other than the CMO—is unresponsive to most stimuli.

"Catatonic?"

"No, Sir. Not completely. She's under surveillance." Leonard raises an eyebrow at this, which is prompt enough for M'Benga to continue. "Two ensigns caught her trying to walk out of an airlock."

"Good God!" Chapel's placed a medical tricorder in his hands, and Leonard gets busy scanning the (mental?) patient. "Has she displayed any of the signs of suicidal behavior before this? Depression?"

Chapel answers him. "Not at all, Doctor McCoy. Just last week we were talking about our next shore leave and—" She stops mid-sentence and blushes. McCoy doesn't want the details.

"So this is recent?"

"Very."

"Hmmm…" He knows little about this woman, so he asks for her last physical results—psychological profile included. Leonard idly directs the rest of the medical staff to "go do something useful" while he goes over the reports. It's disturbing really. Doctor Farrow should be of sound mind—she's certainly in good shape, takes care of herself. The doctor is pondering this bizarre case when Captain Kirk arrives.

"Bones, there you are! I see that you've found out about our CMO."

"Yeah, Jim. Maybe you could have mentioned this to me before I beamed aboard?"

"Well you're here now and we need you. What's her diagnosis?"

McCoy wants to throw his PADD at Jim's head (maybe Helen's rubbing off on him). "I can't figure out a diagnosis if I haven't had time to examine the patient, Captain!" He walks right up to Kirk, who does not step back. "I just got on this damn ship. Give me a minute to think before you start demanding answers, alright?"

"Okay, Bones." Jim reaches out and squeezes his shoulder. "Come by my quarters for dinner. We've got some… business to handle."

McCoy snorts, and Jim doesn't wait for his reply. The Captain goes back to the Bridge.

* * *

Leonard is in the middle of running a brain scan on Doctor Farrow when she looks directly at him and says in a deep voice, "Leonard Horatio McCoy." (The brain waves do not alter pattern.)

McCoy slowly puts down his PADD and just as slowly leans over to look the woman in the eyes. "Doctor Farrow, do you know where you are?"

She croons "_Booones._"

Leonard fumbles with the medical panel, alerts the nurses. He clears his throat and tries again. "Doctor Farrow, I am Doctor McCoy. You're in—"

"_Doctoooor_," the voice (it's too low for a woman) pauses. "You're illogical. Hiiighly illogical."

_What the Hell?_ McCoy has a sinking sensation in his gut. God, Farrow isn't crazy or even truly ill. She's possessed.

* * *

"—and then we had to restraint her when she tried to stab her eye out with a PADD pen."

Jim is tight-jawed; Spock is quiet.

"Well, for God's sake, you two! Say something, or I'm reporting _you _possessed!"

Kirk glares. "This isn't funny, Bones."

"Hell no, it's not. I'm serious. If this—demon—" (Spock sighs deeply.) "—_demon_ is taking over bodies, then we'll all liable to get hoodoo-ed. There's no good reason for it to target Farrow when it's shown no interest in any of the crew besides ya'll!"

"Doctor Farrow is CMO and you are the former CMO—a person to whom it seems to be predisposed."

Leonard stares at Spock. "Are you saying this is my fault? Why, you Vulcan—"

"No!" Jim snaps. "We are NOT going to waste time on your banter. Spock. McCoy." Jim gives each of them a measured look. "Now it's harming my crew. I want it off the ship."

McCoy observes Kirk. "So if you're being molested… it's not that big of a deal? Am I missing something here, Jim, or do you want to explain yourself?"

"Bones, I'm the Captain—"

"Damn straight! That sets you high above the others when it comes to priority!"

"I can handle my own problems!"

"And Spock? Is he not part of the crew either, Jim? Is it okay for _him _to suffer, 'cause he's Vulcan?"

Jim sucks in a breath and plants his hands on the table. "You're out of line, McCoy—"

"—I'm right about this! You—" He stabs a finger at Kirk. "—and you—" That finger is dangerously close to touching Spock. "—are just as important as any man or woman aboard this ship! Hell, I'd say you are twice as important because you're IN-CHARGE!"

Jim folds his arms. "Fine, you're right. We are important to the ship. What's your real point?"

"My point is that if I'm somehow the responsible party of this crazy thing, then you oughta have gotten me here sooner. Ain't no one deserves to be put through Hell on my account. I won't accept it!"

Jim's brows are down now, in concentration. "You're pissed because we didn't contact you right away? I thought you had _other_ _duties!_"

McCoy presses his lips together. This isn't the time to admit that he misses this ship or that the outpost barely registers on an intellectual scale. Before he can respond, however, Spock adds, "Doctor, you are not responsible for this… occurrence, nor for the welfare of the Captain or myself."

"I was at one point, Spock."

"Yes, but you were relieved of those duties."

The conversation takes a turn Leonard doesn't like when Jim wants to know, "Yeah, Bones, why was that exactly? I received a missive that you were being shipped off elsewhere—and no one in Starfleet Command would answer my questions of why my best CMO was leaving."

"The past isn't relevant to the subject at hand, Jim."

The Captain looks as though he is settling in for a long explanation. When McCoy turns to Spock—surely the Vulcan will agree on this—Spock says to Leonard, "I admit that I am also… curious, Doctor."

Great. Two against one. How unfair is that?

Leonard knows that he can't get away without telling this particular story—even if he rehashes it often himself, on nights when he mopes about the outpost. "You ever met Admiral Howe?"

"Not personally. I hear he likes to dress down Captains, though, so I try to stay pretty clear of his radar."

_Smart boy._ "Well, I don't have that luxury. We grew up in the same social circles outside of Atlanta. The man was as much of an ass back then as he is now. We never did get along, and we always had to attend the same parties."

Spock's eyebrow goes up, but Jim shakes his head with _not now, later_ at the Vulcan.

"His daddy got him a commission in Starfleet; his family's always been loaded—rich, Spock, I mean rich. Wealthy. Anyway, he drives me up the wall! Especially once I enlisted in Starfleet—you'd think it wouldn't matter 'cause we're not on the same track but—"

Leonard bounces his leg in agitation. "Anyway, I might have said one or two unpleasant things to him. But he shouldn'ta insulted my latest publication!" He might have called Howe a yellow-bellied, coattail-riding Hatfield son of a bitch. McCoy's always gotten a tickle out of pretending fake-feuding with pompous asses like the Admiral. That the man could actually trace his family tree back to Ellison Hatfield, McCoy had no clue. (Should have realized they didn't like each other for a _reason_.)

Jim exclaims, "He can't demote you on a basis like that!"

Leonard's smile is rueful. "He's an Admiral, Jim. He can do whatever the Hell he wants."

_We'll see about that_, Jim thinks. He and Spock share a glance—words unnecessary.

"Now how about we discuss the more important issue—like how do we exorcise a spirit?"

"I have studied several different rituals in a variety of… superstitious species." _Like Terrans_—he doesn't say it but they hear the words anyway. McCoy squints an eye in irritation. "The common practice for this type of situation is clear: we must make contact with the entity."

"How do we do that?"

"I believe that your race refers to it as a… séance."

Leonard drops his jaw. Jim laughs and says, "I didn't know you were into mysticism, Spock."

Spock tilts his head in an indignant manner. "Captain, I am not a mystic. My suggestion is based on research and carefully drawn conclusions."

"On logic, Spock?" McCoy feels no need to suppress his snicker. He adds to the Captain, "Maybe we should have the Costume Department find the appropriate attire for Spock, if he's gonna conduct a call to the dead." Jim and Leonard grin at each other.

Spock ignores them. "We will require the participation of several crew members."

Jim agrees that he can ask his reliable Bridge Crew for assistance. McCoy leans back. "Well, aren't they the lucky ones? Let's do it tomorrow night."

The matter is decided.


	3. Part Three

**Part Three**

"Aye, I've seen my share of ghosties. There was one lad—naught but a bairn, I'm tellin' ye—died at his post under Klingon attack and now he haunts Engineering. I meself dinnae mind too much—I'd not leave me work even for death! But it makes a mite of trouble for the rest. I cannae keep a man doun there alone!"

"Ghosts are honored in the Russian family. The shade of my grandmother Borshika lived with us for many years after her passing."

Uhura looks unsettled at these declarations. Sulu nods knowingly. A hodge-podge of people are gathered in the Captain's quarters. Mr. Scott was the first invitee to the séance because he was the first person that Bones saw—as McCoy went unswervingly to Engineering for a strong drink. Spock informed Uhura, Sulu, and Chekov of their crucial attendance to the night's proceedings. Len also decided that having another female in the room might stack the deck in their favor, so he asked Christine along too. That makes a total of eight persons surrounding a very large circular table, stolen from a rec room.

Spock and Leonard had a great debate about the lighting. Leonard said darkness is conducive to the séance; Spock stated that low-level lighting is superfluous and only serves the function of lending credibility to supernatural events. To which McCoy replied quite loudly, "This was YOUR idea, you damn hobgoblin! You're the one who thinks this will work!" Spock's next comment infuriated the doctor so much that Jim had to prevent McCoy from landing a few well-placed blows and being nerve-pinched in return.

The Captain calls for order and the attention of all. They link hands (McCoy grasps Spock's wrist instead) and the séance begins.

Spock intones, "We wish to communicate with the spirit of Doctor McCoy."

A few _huh_'s and _what_'s and "I'm right here, you fool!" echo in the dark.

"Understood, Doctor, but I wish to speak with your impersonator. This is the most apt summons." Spock starts again. "We wish to communicate with the spirit of Doctor McCoy. Are you among us?"

The table shudders with a knock. Kirk suppresses a yelp when Uhura digs her nails into his palm. "_Sorry!_" a thick brogue calls out. "My knee's a wee bit jumpy."

"Please refrain from excess movement, Mr. Scott." There's a soft _aye_ from across the table.

The third time is the charm. As soon as Spock finishes with "Are you among us?" Kirk wants to know who just caressed his leg (he doesn't mention how high up it was). A chorus of denial goes 'round from all living parties.

"Captain, are ye positive it wasn't yer imagining?"

"Scotty, I haven't been making this up for the past month! I recognize that touch. _It's_—" Kirk does not complete his sentence. No one (who doesn't already know) asks just how intimately the Captain is acquainted with this ghost. Sometimes ignorance is bliss—and a way to avoid nightmares.

Sulu leans in to Chekov on his left and wants to know, "Is Mr. Spock going to channel the—McCoy?" Chekov shrugs, which is barely a ripple in the dark. "Maybe we should ask."

Then there is no time for questions as Spock falls face forward onto the table with a _thunk_. It startles everyone so badly that they want the lights on _right now_, though no one demands such out loud. Leonard, who is acutely aware of what has just happened, releases Spock's wrist to check his pulse. Kirk demands to know what's going on.

"He's not dead, Jim. I think Spock's in a tra—"

The doctor is cut off by the slow rise of Spock's head, and when the Vulcan turns glowing eyes on him, McCoy wishes he wasn't sitting next to Mr. Spock. "Uh, Jim. I think we made contact."

"What?"

"Spock is possessed, unless his eyes change to blue on a regular basis."

There are gasps, _Oh God_'s, a _Really?_, and "I order you to let go of my hand, Uhura!" She tells the Captain _no_ (not sweetly either) and to sit back down, he's disturbing the séance.

Sulu begins the questioning. "Mr. Sp—_Spirit_, why are you haunting the Captain and the First Officer of the Enterprise?"

McCoy starts to sweat because the Vulcan continues to look at him with his own blue eyes. There is a heavy silence in the room. When the tension and anticipation almost reaches a crescendo, Spock begins to talk.

"McCoooy is here."

Leonard cannot reply around his too-tight throat. It's Christine who asks for clarification. "Our McCoy is here. Are you McCoy also?"

Finally the spell breaks as Spock gazes at Christine (next to Leonard). "I am heeerrre."

Chekov mutters in thick Russian _I am confused_ from somewhere around the table. Leonard has had just about enough—now that he can breathe properly—of this madness.

His words are rough. "You aren't me, you crazy ghoul!"

"I am McCoy." It drops the creepy, low voice for something higher and insulted.

"No you aren't! I AM MCCOY." Leonard smacks his free hand on the tabletop. "Me! And you'd better stop fooling around with these people, understand? We want you gone!"

The entity quiets then. So does everyone else until Scotty cannot take the silence anymore. "Are ye alright, Doctor? The haunt hasn't… taken ye, has it?"

"No, Scotty. I think this spirit is a coward."

Jim interrupts with "Bones, maybe name-calling isn't the best idea—"

"Do you, or do you _not _want it to stop—"

"Fine!" Kirk's agreement is too sharp and too loud.

McCoy wants to add _I'm just trying to help you, Jimmy_ but he does not. Instead, he is direct. "What is your purpose? Why are you on this ship?"

"I am McCoy, CMO of the Enterprise."

"Doctor Farrow is CMO."

"_I am McCoy, CMO of the Enterprise._" It says that somewhat merrily, and McCoy is glad that the lights are low because he has a bad feeling that the Vulcan's face is stretched in a smile—which is more disturbing than the possession itself. "_Unless…_" It turns and fixes a blue eye on Leonard.

"Unless what?"

"Unless McCoy returns."

Leonard is speechless. Luckily, Kirk is not. "You want Bones to be CMO of the Enterprise?"

"Yesssss. McCoy must return or—" The threat is left hanging.

Apparently not to Jim. Kirk hisses and snaps, "Stop that! And get out of my First Officer!"

"Ssspppock. Greeeen-bloooded—"

Suddenly Leonard is furious. No one—especially not some wannabe, molesting spook—gets to insult Spock that way! He's McCoy, and it's _his_ prerogative. "Enough! If you want me back so damn bad, then you got me! Now leave Spock alone, and get the Hell off this ship!"

This time Leonard manages to catch one of Spock's shoulders before the Vulcan adds another lump to his forehead. The spirit is gone, and Doctor McCoy has just made a rash promise that he's not sure he can keep.

* * *

Spock takes the news of his possession rather well. He merely says, "I was One with the entity. It will not leave the Enterprise until Doctor McCoy resumes the position of Chief Medical Officer."

"I want to know why, Spock! _Why me?_"

"Doctor, I am… uncertain of how to explain the situation. This being is not of our Universe."

Kirk stops pacing and stands in Mr. Spock's personal space. "Explain."

"Captain, what we are experiencing is a unique phenomenon—of Destiny correcting itself. I do not fully understand its existence."

"Destiny!" Jim scoffs. "That—thing—is Destiny? That's impossible, Spock!" _And why does it fondle me?_

"Perhaps not Destiny itself, Jim—a physical manifestation of another universe that has slipped into our own but cannot reconcile the differences."

"A parallel universe?"

Spock tilts his head with _yes_. "It is fascinating, Captain. Presently, there is no record of evidence for this theory, yet—"

Leonard, perched on an armrest, interrupts before Spock can get carried away. (He knows this Vulcan too well.) "Hold on there, Spock! You're saying that, in another _universe_, I wasn't booted off the Enterprise?" He huffs out a laugh. "So basically, I screwed up my own future?" _Tell me something that I don't know!_

"You are not necessarily correct, Doctor. It is possible that we are living as our universe dictates. However, the being—"

"The Overlap!"

"—believes that Destiny cannot be fulfilled without your presence aboard this ship. It wants _its _universe to coincidence with _ours_."

"Then what does it know that we don't?" Jim asks.

Something flickers through the Vulcan's gaze but he does not answer the question directly. "Doctor McCoy will be imperative to the well-being of the Enterprise and her crew." He echoes Leonard's earlier words to Jim and Spock: _He is important._

It seems that they are all beginning to realize just how important McCoy must be—and that Admiral Howe has destroyed something precious.

McCoy sighs and rubs his cheek with his knuckles. "Well, what are we supposed to tell Starfleet Command? 'Hi, you have to re-instate me as CMO because some Almighty ghost is gonna terrorize the crew if ya don't.' We'll be locked up in the psych-ward of Starfleet Medical so fast it'll make your head spin!"

"I have thoughts on this subject."

McCoy waves his hand. "By all means, Mr. Spock. _Please share_."

The Vulcan says instead, "Are you attempting sarcasm?"

Just like that, Leonard is genuinely laughing. "Spock, Spock! It's just how I am. I do want to know about your plan, though." He's smiling now. _Maybe the hobgoblin can be improved after all._ (Len would like the chance to try.)

"Admiral Howe had a significant influence on Leonard's dismissal as CMO." ("I'll say! That _bastard_—" "Bones!") "Perhaps we should allow him an opportunity in which to comprehend the 'error of his ways.'"

Jim is smiling now, too, but not for any reason that McCoy can find, except for the pleasing thought of Howe getting his comeuppance. He looks between the Captain and the First Officer. "Ya'll are up to something!"

Jim looks smug. "Spock, would you be willing to contact this being again?"

"Yes, Captain."

"Good." He brushes a hand over the Vulcan's shoulder before turning to face McCoy. "Bones, wouldn't you agree that the good Admiral Howe deserves a… visitation or two?"

A slow, brightening grin spreads over McCoy's face. He comes to his feet, bounces a little. "Why, Jim, I like the sound of that idea. I most certainly do!" McCoy addresses Spock (who is staring a little too intently at the brilliance in Len's face) and says, "Mr. Spock, I'll owe you this one."

Spock's eyebrow goes up. "Indeed."

There is an Admiral to convince and, quite auspiciously, a ghost with which to do it.

* * *

_One week later…_

The Enterprise crew is having a day-long celebration, on the orders of Captain Kirk. Kirk celebrates a week of showering to himself, and Mr. Spock is grateful for uninterrupted meditation. Bones, as Doctor McCoy is center of this party, drinks to a distant outpost which he won't have to grace again.

People are just plain happy to be aboard the Enterprise without apparitions; they have a return to normalcy and little excuse to continue reporting ghostly sights and possession of random crew members. McCoy, after reviewing the log entries in Sickbay, will always wonder how much of the "supernatural" activity on the ship was due to an actual ghost.

"—and he was practically in tears, begging me to take the position back!" There is a round of laughter in the rec room as McCoy gleefully relates his _unexpected_ communication with the great Admiral Howe. "I had to consider the request for a minute or two, of course—"

"Doctor McCoy, surely you didn't want to stay on that dreadful outpost!" Uhura exclaims. _With that horrid nurse._

"Uhura, darlin', just for show." McCoy grins. "Just for show!"

"Who would nae jump at the chance to be on this beauty!" Many people drink in agreement to Mr. Scott's appraisal, including the Scotsman, who's brought some fine Engineering hooch to the affair.

Kirk clears his throat and raises his glass in a toast. "Bones, we're very glad to have you back with us. To Doctor McCoy!" More cheering. "And to our Enterprise—may she keep us together for many years to come!"

"Thanks, Jim," McCoy says as Kirk regains his seat beside the doctor. "Thank you, really. And you too, Spock!"

Spock inclines his head. "Our solution is for the good of the many."

Leonard smiles and tips with glass in acknowledgement. "And certainly for the good of the few." He places his empty glass onto a side table. "Now, Captain, I'd hate to be remiss in my duties. You're overdue for a physical—"

"_Ah, Bones_—"

All is on track once again.

Somewhere a spritely little obsessed thing called Destiny laughs and congratulates herself on a job well done. One less Universe to worry about; now, moving on down the list…

_-Fini_

**Now seriously, was that crazy or what? :)**


End file.
